


To Sleep Perchance to Dream

by SteelLily



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 04:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17676593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelLily/pseuds/SteelLily
Summary: Valerie throws Lucille a surprise birthday party.





	To Sleep Perchance to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to @cassiopeiasara for the beta work. You’re the best, pal.

Valerie Dyer does not dream often. She prefers it that way, running herself to exhaustion to keep her subconscious at bay. When she dreams, she dreams of wars. Flashes and screams that wake her drenched in sweat. Patients she lost. Rarely, she dreams of the women she grew to love. The family she found that taught her all about herself. She left Poplar to escape the drudgery, to do something that mattered. She did not expect to find herself along the way.

In the last two years, two people crashed into Valerie’s life, awakening long dormant passions. Sister Julienne with her invitation back to nursing felt like a welcome back home. Nurse Lucille Anderson awoke in Valerie feelings she had convinced herself she left back in the rubble of battlefields. 

Affections such as Valerie harbored were best left in the past, to dreams. People like her were not accepted in Poplar. She recalled the young husband who tried to take his own life when he was found out. Their predilections were secrets one carried to the grave. And yet, how her heart soared to look at Lucille. She was everything Val had been told her whole life that she was not. Lucille held a quiet dignity and femininity that Val’s mother still scolded her for lacking. 

Where Val was bold and proud, Lucille was shy and humble. People often mistook those traits for timidity and weakness. There was a fire behind Lucille’s smiles that contained wells of strength Val thought unending. Her heart was full at being trusted with such sacred knowledge. It terrified her how quickly and thoroughly she found herself lost in the kindest brown eyes she had ever known. She was hopelessly in love with Lucille Anderson.

“Nurse Dyer,” Phyllis glanced up from her clipboard, over the glasses resting low on her nose.

Valerie awkwardly swallowed the overlarge chunk of toast she bit off and coughed, “Yes?”

“Mrs. Turner has requested your presence today at the clinic. Nurse Franklin will cover your patients, if you wouldn’t mind updating her?”

Valerie shook her head, “Course not.”

The skin at the back of Valerie’s neck prickled as another presence entered the room. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” Lucille said.

Valerie extended the plate to Lucille who came to stand beside her looking disheveled. She mouthed a thank you before taking a bite of the buttered toast. Phyllis smiled and nodded at Lucille, “Mrs. Smith?”

“Yes. A baby boy,” Lucille replied, exhaustion evident in her scratchy voice.

Lucille leaned against Valerie’s side. Valerie fought the urge to wrap her arm around Lucille’s shoulder and instead willed herself to be as still as possible. Phyllis continued, “I will cover Nurse Anderson’s patients this morning.”

Phyllis’ hand raised at Lucille stopped the protest bubbling in her throat. “You’ve just come off two long deliveries. Accept the break, please,” Phyllis finished in a tone that brooked no debate.

Valerie squeezed Lucille’s arm lightly in solidarity as she righted herself from Valerie’s side. A smile worked its way across Valerie’s lips as she noticed Phyllis watch Lucille exit the room. Phyllis leaned over to ensure that the woman was far enough down the hall to be out of earshot. She nodded and Valerie glanced quickly back to verify before speaking, “Aunt Florrie agreed to let us use her pub for Lucille’s surprise party. After I finish at the clinic, I’ll pop round the Buckles’ and pick up the decorations. Her church friends offered to make a handful of dishes and one of them gave me a recipe for a pineapple rum cake.”

“I’ll make it,” Phyllis interrupted, “I believe you and Sister Monica Joan would eat the whole thing before it ever makes it to Lucille’s party.”

“The quality of a confection can be trusted to my well-trained taste buds, Nurse Crane,” Sister Monica Joan indignantly interjected.

“Of that I am certain, Sister, but the object is for the cake to make it to Nurse Anderson’s birthday party. You are to oversee procuring a present from the Sisters,” Phyllis added.

Sister Monica Joan nodded, “I am quite capable of finding a piece of literature suitable to Nurse Anderson’s equally refined tastes.”

Phyllis smiled as Sister Monica Joan toddled off deep in thought. “Anything else you need from us?”

Valerie bit her cheek in thought, “Trix is handling the music. I think that’s everything. The Buckles are going to help me decorate after the pub closes today.”

“Excellent, Sister Winifred will take call tomorrow in the evening so that the rest of us may attend the soiree. In the meantime, let’s not shirk our duties today, ladies,” Phyllis tapped her pencil against the clipboard.

_______________

Lucille was bone tired. There was a chill in the air that forced her deeper in her covers. She should be asleep. Her mind was blessedly blank for once and yet sleep seemed to have forsaken her. With a sigh, she shifted onto her side and placed her hand under her cheek. She eyed the book on the nightstand next to her bed. She was nearly finished with her yearly birthday reading of Little Women. Lucille picked up her well-loved hardcover edition of the book and resumed reading. It was not long before her eyes drifted closed and the book fell softly against her chest.

In her dreams, Lucille often found herself back in her library in Jamaica. Surrounded by shelves stacked high with books of every subject and variety. She could nearly smell the salty ocean air mingling with the distinctive scent of mountains of books. Her family made frequent appearances in her dreams, offering her comforting words of support and love. Recently, a new visitor surfaced in her visions of home: a lovely brunette bob she recognized. In her dreams, Val would pass down the aisles, a ghost that Lucille could never seem quite to catch. Occasionally, Valerie Dyer would be sharing a laugh or a drink with her family, looking for the world like she fit perfectly in Lucille’s life.

The feelings the dreams stirred in Lucille, while not foreign to her, were not ones she often felt for anyone. Lucille found herself staring into bright blue eyes over the edges of a book in the warm September Jamaican air. Valerie’s eyes crinkled in the corners in what Lucille knew well to be a smile. Dream Lucille placed a finger on the spine of the book and pulled it away to discover what held Valerie’s attention. The words, while illegible, she recognized immediately:

“Into the golden vessel of great song  
Let us pour all our passion; breast to breast  
Let other lovers lie, in love and rest;  
Not we,—articulate, so, but with the tongue  
Of all the world: the churning blood, the long  
Shuddering quiet, the desperate hot palms pressed  
Sharply together upon the escaping guest,  
The common soul, unguarded, and grown strong.  
Longing alone is singer to the lute;  
Let still on nettles in the open sigh  
The minstrel, that in slumber is as mute  
As any man, and love be far and high,  
That else forsakes the topmost branch, a fruit  
Found on the ground by every passer-by.”

Dream Lucille closed the book around her finger and looked back where Valerie once sat, to catch her disappearing around the corner of a shelf. Lucille, clutching the book to her chest, chased after Valerie, calling her name. On the other side of the shelves, Lucille felt sand between her toes against her now bare feet. On the beach, arms stretched out toward the sun, Valerie stood in her high waisted trousers and a soft looking blue short sleeved top. Dream Lucille walked the beach toward Valerie and the sunset. As she neared, Valerie reached out her hand to Lucille, which Lucille took without hesitation. Lucille felt herself warm the nearer she drew to Valerie. The sun framed Valerie causing Lucille to involuntarily squint as she felt soft hands wrap around her middle.

A loud thump woke Lucille with a start. The room was dark and it took her eyes several moments to adjust. When finally, she was able to orient herself, she caught sight of her book on the floor next to her bed. Lucille groused, “You interrupted a perfectly pleasant dream.”

She reached down to pick up the book and return the bookmark to the last page she read before checking the time on the clock on the table. It was nearly dinner which meant Valerie should be returning soon from her rounds. Lucille smiled. She quickly changed into a thick green sweater and matching skirt.

Nonnatus House was quieter than usual for a weekday early evening. Lucille walked past the living area with a smile ready for Sister Monica Joan to find her curiously absent. The kitchen was also empty. Lucille set about putting water in the kettle and lighting the stove. She sat down at the table and picked up the newspaper to read while she waited for the water to heat. It was not long until Sister Monica Joan ambled into the kitchen. Upon seeing Lucille, she quickly tucked a small paper bag behind her back. “Hello, Sister,” Lucille smiled.

“I—well that is, hello Nurse Anderson, excuse me,” Sister Monica Joan turned unceremoniously and hurried away from the kitchen.

Lucille scrunched her face in confusion but the kettle on the stove began singing so she was not able to think on the odd behavior for long. She pulled two mugs from the cabinets and placed a bag of tea in each before filling them with water. She sat one mug at a seat next to her at the table and cradled her own while she waited for Valerie to roll in like a hurricane. Minutes became one hour, then two and Lucille reconciled herself to drink the second cup of tea she made for Valerie lest it go to waste. Lucille moved to the living area and curled up with her book on the couch. One by one, Lucille watched the nurses and sisters return home for dinner. The house warmed with the bustle. Lucille worked to hide her disappointment at Valerie’s absence. 

Soon it was dinner time and the table filled with the house’s occupants and recollections of the day’s activities. Lucille found herself retelling the delivery of the Smith baby. Halfway into the meal, Valerie half ran into the dining room sopping wet. She opened her mouth even as Lucille began piling a plate with an extra serving, “I’ll put aside your dinner.”

Sister Julienne grimaced, “Nurse Dyer, do try not to flood the house with your dripping.”

It was not until Lucille was elbow deep in dishes that Valerie resurfaced, looking slightly less harried and only slightly drier than before. “Your supper is in the oven, hopefully still warm,” Lucille said.

Valerie lightly squeezed Lucille’s forearm, “Thank you,” she said before retrieving the plate from the oven.

“Long day at the clinic?” Lucille said while drying a plate.

Val’s eyebrows scrunched together, “What?” she stumbled, “Oh. Yeah, swamped,” Valerie hoped her lopsided grin would cover for her misstep.

“Hmm,” Lucille turned back to the sink to pull another plate from the drying rack, “I could have helped,” Lucille fought the pang of guilt that grew at her idleness during the day.

“You earned a break, Lu, don’t feel bad for taking it,” Valerie replied.

Lucille chuckled, “You really ought to stop reading my mind so well. You might find things there you wish you hadn’t.”

Valerie replied, “Doubt that,” around a bite of food before shooting Lucille a wide grin, “How’d you spend your surprise day off?”

Lucille felt her face flush grateful that her back was to Val. “I slept actually,” she replied with still turned away from Valerie as she worked to wipe the dream she had from her mind.

“Sleep sounds lovely. Only pleasant dreams, I hope,” Val replied.

Lucille jumped when Valerie took the dish cloth from her hands and motioned for her to sit at the table. Valerie quickly washed her plate then finished drying what dishes remained. Lucille felt heat radiate from her stomach straight to her hairline. She watched Valerie put the dried dishes away before filling the kettle and lighting the stove. It felt awkward when Valerie turned to face her. Lucille nodded silently with a pained smile on her face not wishing to discuss the content of her dreams. Lucille cringed as one eyebrow climbed toward Valerie’s hairline, “Tell me about your day,” she interrupted the impending questions about her inelegance.

____________________

Her birthday began with a chill in the air that made Lucille long for Jamaica. She dressed quickly, her room empty which was normal for life with Phyllis. Her roommate rose with the sun most days. While Lucille was not one to delay the start of her days, like a certain brunette she knew—and a blonde for that matter—she did not start the day with quite as much vigor as Phyllis. There was a low bustling in the kitchen. The midwives and nuns alike were engaged in their dance around the small room to have their teas and various breakfasts. Lucille was shocked to find that Valerie was already up and moving. “Good morning, Nurse Anderson,” Sister Winifred smiled.

“Good Morning, Sister,” Lucille replied.

Trixie handed a plate from Valerie who stood near the stove to Lucille. There was buttered toast, a sunny side up egg, and a piece of bacon. “Val’s been up for hours. She and Phyllis only just opened the kitchen for we commoners to enter,” Trixie explained.

Lucille looked over Trixie’s shoulder to catch Valerie smiling at her, “Tea’s at the table,” she said over the noise.

“Thank you,” Lucille replied.

Valerie waived the acknowledgement away before turning back to whatever she was working on. In the dining room, Phyllis sat at the table with Sister Julienne going over the day’s assignments. “Good morning, Nurse Anderson,” Sister Julienne smiled.

“Good morning,” Lucille replied.

“Nurse Anderson,” Phyllis smiled, “Did you have a nice respite yesterday?”

“I did, thank you, Phyllis. I don’t think I realized how tired I was.”

Lucille ate her breakfast. It was obvious that Valerie was responsible for the cookery. While nothing was cooked incorrectly, there was also no seasoning of any kind. Her thoughts turned quickly to Valerie hovering over a skillet, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. It drew a smile to her lips. Lucille looked up from her plate to find both Phyllis and Sister Julienne staring at her. “I’m sorry did one of you say something else?”

“I asked if you were ready to get back to it but perhaps we have our answer,” Phyllis chuckled.

“Oh no, I am well, Nurse Crane,” Lucille replied.

Valerie watched in amusement as Lucille worked to convince the two women across from her that she was ready and able to return to her duties. She leaned in the doorframe leading to the dining area with her arms crossed loosely over her chest. She felt someone draw up next to her and smelled Trixie’s perfume without having to glance to identify the person. 

Trixie scrutinized Val’s profile. The contentment she saw there had not been absent before Lucille came, half freezing, to Nonnatus, but it had noticeably increased. It was a look akin to how Delia would sometimes watch Patsy when she thought no one was paying attention. Trixie’s heart clenched at the recollection that Patsy had clearly not trusted her with that secret. There had been so much loss in the last few years. Trixie took a drag from the cigarette between her fingers while she debated how best to broach the topic. The smoke poured out from her lips around the fingernail that she nibbled. “You really ought to quit, you know,” Val said.

“Oh sweetie, I am aware, but some loves are harder to relinquish than others,” Trixie smiled at herself at the double meaning and the look that crossed Valerie’s face causing her to glance back at Lucille.

Trixie walked with her ashtray to the table and sat down next to Lucille. Lucille turned to Trixie, “Perhaps you should consider quitting smoking, Trixie.”

Valerie laughed drawing Lucille’s attention. Trixie smiled wryly with an affectionate eye roll. “Yes, so I’ve been told,” she replied.

Sister Julienne excused herself. “Supply room in ten minutes, ladies,” Phyllis said as she stood.

Lucille squinted at the white powder marring Nurse Crane’s usually pristine uniform. She opened her mouth but Valerie spoke over her as she approached the table next to Lucille, “Nurse Crane, I seem to have gotten flour on you when I spilled this morning.”

Phyllis looked down and wiped at her dress, “So you have, Nurse Dyer, thank you.”

“This is why we don’t usually allow you to make the breakfast, Val,” Trixie laughed before leaning near Lucille’s shoulder, “She produces more mess than she does edible food.”

Valerie smacked her hand against her chest, “Your words wound me, Trix.”

“You spill, I burn,” Trixie shrugged, “We are cut from a similar cloth, Nurse Dyer.”

“And neither of you seem to understand proper seasoning,” Lucille added with an innocent smile.

Valerie glared while Trixie nodded, “That’s fair,” she replied before snuffing out her cigarette.

Lucille smiled while chewing the last of her bacon. She winked at Valerie who reddened and quickly looked away. Trixie felt suddenly like a third wheel and wondered, for the first time, whether Valerie’s obvious feelings were reciprocated. She drummed her manicured nails on the table lost in thought. A hand fell on hers drawing her attention back to the table. Valerie leveled a glare at Trixie. “Sorry,” Trixie replied.

“Ladies, supply room,” Phyllis called as she breezed past.

_________________________

Valerie spent the entire day a ball of nervous energy. She had stopped by the pub twice between patients to make sure everything was to plan. There was a new wrinkle in her aunt’s brow that she knew without doubt she caused. Valerie worried that the number of times the small clock pinned to her chest dropped against her chest would leave a bruise. Phyllis’ hand on Valerie’s arm in the antenatal clinic was the first grounding moment she experienced. The hand felt like a tree root sprung up from the ground to tether her to one spot. “You’re flitting around like a balloon in a strong wind, Nurse Dyer. Please take a deep breath.”

A slow nod was all Valerie could manage as she took a slow breath and clasped her hands loosely in front of her. Phyllis rolled her eyes when Valerie ducked dramatically. “Get out of here before you ruin the whole thing, Nurse Dyer,” Phyllis commanded with a point of her finger.

Lucille watched the familiar brunette bob jog out of the room at a pace she was not certain she had ever seen from Valerie. She pinched herself to check that she was not dreaming again. When she looked up, Valerie was gone which did not quell the feeling that she was asleep. “Nurse Anderson,” Phyllis called, drawing Lucille back to certainty that she was in fact awake, “Nurse Dyer had to run an errand, are you free to help here for the next hour?”

The smiling response Lucille gave calmed Phyllis’ own frayed nerves in the blowback of Valerie’s frenetic energy. With Lucille and Phyllis at the helm, the clinic finished with all their patients a full ten minutes early. Trixie found them arms deep in suds, sterilizing equipment. She cleared her throat. Phyllis wiped her forearm across her forehead, “Ah, Nurse Franklin, are you here to retrieve Nurse Anderson?”

“I am,” she replied, “Do you two need a hand finishing and we can leave together?”

“That would be wonderful,” Lucille smiled.

Trixie pulled the laundry from the cubicles and piled them together to be cleaned, she then quickly collected the patient folders together and filed them in the cabinet in the small office. By the time she finished, Lucille and Phyllis were drying their arms off. Lights off and doors closed, the trio made their way back to Nonnatus House to change for dinner. “How about we go to the Black Sail for dinner? I don’t much feel like the standard fair tonight,” Trixie suggested.

“That sounds lovely,” Phyllis agreed.

Lucille looked hesitant. Trixie bumped against her shoulder, “You deserve a night out.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Lucille conceded, still looking a bit unsure.

“Val said her aunt was quite adamant about it,” Trixie shrugged, checking her hunch as to the origination of Lucille’s hesitancy.

“Well, I suppose we should not let down a friend’s family,” Lucille sighed.

Trixie grinned and glanced over at Phyllis who wore a considering look. When they arrived at the house, it was empty save Sister Winifred who looked about to pop with excitement. Phyllis glared at the young woman in warning. She nodded gravely and wiped the grin from her face. It took about thirty minutes for the women to wash up and change. Lucille waited with Phyllis in the hallway for Trixie to finish. “Sister Winifred, would you like to join us?” Lucille asked.

“Oh no, thank you, I’m on call tonight,” she smiled brightly.

“Well, if you would like, we can bring you back fish and chips,” Lucille replied.

“Thank you, Nurse Anderson, I would like that very much,” Winifred replied.

Trixie walked up soon after and Phyllis ushered the women to her car, insisting that there was rain in the forecast and, “Besides, it’s too cold to be walking about when we’ve been on our feet all day.”

Valerie nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone on the bar rang. She anxiously bit her nail while she waited for her aunt to tell her whether that was Winifred with the signal that they were on their way. When her aunt nodded, Valerie sprang into action, “All right, they’ll be here in five minutes, everyone hide.”

Valerie stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips checking that everyone was out of immediate eye sight. “Fred, you need to scoot further in,” she directed.

A grunt and thump in response made Valerie grimace, “Thanks, Fred.”

“Yeah,” he replied, clearly strained.

Headlights in her periphery drew Valerie’s attention and she slammed her hand against the light switch before plastering herself against the wall of the doorway. The doors to Phyllis’ car groaned open and closed. “Are you sure they are open?” Lucille asked.

“Ought to be,” Phyllis replied, “Try the door.”

Valerie felt the door move beside her. She hit the light switch and shouted, “Surprise!” along with the twenty other people in the room.

Lucille jumped. Valerie’s arms reached out to steady the woman instinctively. Her hands lingered on Lucille’s elbows while she recovered amidst laughing, “What is this?” she asked.

“It’s your birthday party,” Valerie replied and looked out at the room, “Obviously.”

Lucille took in the faces of the Palmers, Mr. and Mrs. Edwards, several other members of her church congregation, the Buckles, Sisters Monica Joan and Julienne, the whole Turner family, and the nurses flanking her. Her eyes flooded. She cleared her throat, “Thank you,” she whispered to Valerie.

Valerie just shook her head with a smile and led Lucille into the pub. The bar was lined with a handful of Lucille’s favorite Jamaican and British dishes. “Birthday lady first, then everyone dig in,” Valerie relinquished Lucille at the bar. 

Lucille felt the absence of that steadying hand like a rush of cold air. She quickly gathered herself and piled food on the plate handed to her by someone. The room filled with music as she sat down at one of the booths. Trixie joined the queue alongside Valerie at the back of the line. “It looks great in here,” Trixie said.

“Thanks, it was mostly Fred and Reggie. I was told to supervise after an unfortunate incident with some streamers led to having to redo twenty minutes worth of work.”

Trixie laughed, “I can picture that clearly.”

“Hey,” Valerie whined.

“You did a great job,” Trixie replied, she followed Valerie’s gaze to where Lucille sat at a table surrounded by her church friends, “She looks happy.”

Valerie hummed in agreement. “She deserves it,” Valerie added absently.

“As do you,” Trixie replied.

Trixie took a plate and left Valerie behind her, brow knitted in confusion. The evening progressed without hitch. Lucille received several books as gifts which is what led to Lucille and Sister Monica Joan huddled together over her tiny collection going over the titles and making promises to read them together. “All right, ladies and gents,” Phyllis called over the hum of pleasant conversation, “The time has come for the cake. Nurse Anderson, if you please,” she motioned for Lucille to join her at the bar as she pulled a cake from behind the counter.

“That isn’t a rum cake, is it?” Lucille beamed.

“It is a pineapple rum cake, recipe courtesy of Mrs. Edwards,” Phyllis motioned at the woman in deference, “Construction and defense of said cake courtesy of yours truly,” she smiled casting a glance at Sister Monica Joan.

Trixie laughed and watched while Phyllis cut and divvied out the cake to Lucille and the line that formed behind her. She nursed her water and busied herself shuffling through records. After the line dwindled and the song she played ended, she heard a plate set down beside her. She opened her mouth to protest but found Phyllis, “Rum free just for you.”

Trixie felt her throat constrict. She smiled and gladly took a bite of cake. After the cake was eaten by all, people slowly began filtering out of the pub. First to leave were the Sisters, then the Buckles. When finally all that remained were the nurses, Trixie pulled Valerie aside and requested that she get a broom for her from the storage closet so she could help Auntie Florrie clean up. Valerie nodded and Trixie quickly found Lucille, “Valerie said she needs your help in the storage closet.”

“All right,” Lucille replied without a hint of suspicion in her voice.

Trixie carefully crept behind Lucille, tiptoeing as quietly as possible in her heels. “Trixie said you could use some assistance,” Lucille said.

The door closed behind her with a thump and click of the lock being turned. Valerie stepped around Lucille to test the doorknob. She closed her eyes and sighed under her breath, “Trixie Franklin, you devil.”

Valerie turned back to Lucille, “We’ve been locked in.”

Lucille raised an eyebrow, “Why would someone lock us in a broom closet?”

Valerie shrugged. She replayed in her mind Trixie’s words to her of late. She squinted in the distance, “Oh no,” panic flooded Valerie’s face.

Instinctively, Lucille stepped into Valerie’s space to soothe away the fear that she watched develop there. Behind them, the door clicked and opened. Valerie jumped as far from Lucille as the tiny closet would allow. “What’re you two doing in here?” Phyllis asked as Valerie bolted out of the closet.

“Bollocks,” Trixie cursed when she saw Valerie barreling toward her.

Trixie smiled innocently, “What happened? I thought you were bringing me a broom?”

Valerie’s mouth opened and closed uselessly for several moments as she walked back her anger. “Can I have one?” Valerie asked Trixie instead.

“I thought it was a vile habit?” Trixie asked as she handed Valerie her cigarette case and matchbook.

“It is,” Valerie replied as she took a slow drag.

Valerie held the cigarette between her lips as she pulled on her coat when Lucille walked back out chatting with Phyllis. Trixie quietly cursed Phyllis, Trixie watched Lucille watch Valerie exit the pub hastily. Her face fell in what looked like concern. Trixie then looked at Phyllis watching Lucille and caught Trixie’s eye. “Bollocks,” Trixie repeated when she caught the look of questioning on Phyllis’ face.

Trixie smiled innocently again as Phyllis made her way toward her. She swallowed when the look of annoyance did not leave Phyllis’ face. “What are you playing at, Nurse Franklin?” Phyllis asked in a voice that could only be described as chastisement.

Trixie stuttered. “If you’re doing what I think it is, think twice,” Phyllis added, “It’s not safe if someone were to realize.”

Trixie’s head swiveled, “You know?”

“I have eyes, don’t I?” Phyllis shook her head, “You have to be subtler in public. Honestly locking people in a closet? This isn’t a movie.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Trixie asked earnestly, “I managed to fail another friend and I won’t be repeating it this time.”

“Nurses Mount and Busby knew their hearts better than most. It’s not a failure that they didn’t tell you. They were not as delicate as they thought they were, so clearly they felt safe enough, lass.”

“You knew that too?” Trixie felt like her head may as well detach from her body at the information being shared with her.

“I am not as blind as you seem to think me,” Phyllis watched Lucille tidying her own party and sighed, “I have an idea.”

Trixie watched Phyllis with new eyes as she directed Lucille to sit down then stuck her head outside to usher Valerie back inside. She sat at the bar and whispered between them. They all took turns looking back at Trixie who felt a growing unease and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Lucille eventually smiled compassionately at Trixie while Phyllis walked back to her. “I’ve told them you’re unwell and I’m going to drive you back to the House. They are going to walk home, much to my protestations,” Phyllis raised her voice, “Come now, Nurse Franklin, let’s get you home.”

“Feel better, Trix,” Valerie called.

“Thank you,” Trixie waved back, clutching her hand over her stomach.

In the car, Phyllis explained her plan. Trixie’s face lit up.

_________________________

The chill in the air had somehow managed to dissipate some as the sun set. Still, Valerie wrapped her arms around herself to fend off the dread building in her chest. Lucille longed to wrap her arm around Valerie’s shoulders and keep the thoughts racing around her friend’s head at bay. It felt inappropriate for the first time and Lucille felt lost. Their shoes clicked against the cobblestones as they wound their way back home. It and the sound of the wind whipping around the buildings were some of the only sounds in the early evening. Valerie cleared her throat, “I hope you had fun tonight.”

“Of course,” Lucille smiled and drew closer to Valerie who did not move closer but at least did not move away, “I loved it. Thank you, Valerie.”

Valerie nodded and turned to smile at Lucille as they walked. Her mind was a torrent of fears and memories of the nurse who drove her from the military. So lost in her thoughts was she, that she did not notice when Lucille linked their arms together. She realized with a start that she was being pulled up the house stairs. She retreated to a respectable distance which resulted in a frown from Lucille that she tried to wipe out of her mind. They passed the living area and Valerie noted the mess left on the couch and chair of Trixie’s records.

When Valerie opened the door to the room she shared with Trixie, she nearly screamed in annoyance to find Trixie asleep on her bed and Phyllis asleep on Trixie’s bed. Behind her, Lucille chuckled, “Take your pajamas and come sleep in mine.”

Valerie swallowed her fear as she cursed the two women she did not even fully believe were asleep. She carefully pulled the pajamas from underneath the pillow and Trixie’s head. “You better be asleep,” she whispered to the woman.

The door clicked closed behind them and Trixie cracked her eye open cautiously. She turned to find Phyllis sitting up with a broad grin on her face. Lucille opened the door to her room and stalled. On Phyllis’ bed were her birthday gifts, Phyllis’ coat, presumably Trixie’s, as well as what appeared to be a chunk of Phyllis’ closet. “Peculiar,” Lucille muttered and stepped into the room, closing the door behind she and Valerie.

Valerie’s face was unreadable. Lucille retrieved her gifts and stacked them neatly at the foot of her bed. Valerie silently cursed the situation. It was obvious and indelicate and if she could prove that Trixie and Phyllis were in fact responsible, she would give them a thorough speaking to, she just needed proof. A hand on her shoulder drew her back, “I’m going to the toilet to change. Make yourself comfortable.”

The door clicked closed and Valerie was left alone in the space. Lucille was surprisingly calm about all this. “Of course, she is. She ain’t like you, Val,” she said to herself.

Lucille listened to the water running in the sink as she tried to still the frantic racing of her heart. While she dreamed of situations in which she found herself in Valerie’s arms, the potential reality of it left her flooded with anxiety. Valerie was not helping calm her nerves with her clear discomfort. 

It made her recall the British ladies who visited her island. The easy touches and gestures between people of a certain persuasion sent them running in the opposite direction. Before Lucille understood what those touches meant and why the ladies had a problem with it, Lucille just took it as a natural part of life. Some people preferred the company of those like them and some did not. Missionaries and the like worked hard to instill a shame and guilt about it that simply never landed with Lucille or what she knew to be true of her faith.

Clearly, however, Valerie was more like the missionaries than Lucille had thought. It pained Lucille. She splashed water on her face to give the other woman time to decide to stay or flee. When Lucille knocked on her bedroom door, she half expected to be met with silence. Valerie’s soft, “I’m decent,” drew a smile back to Lucille’s lips.

The sight that greeted Lucille caused a chuckle to brew in her chest. Valerie fanned a blanket over the pile of her clothing on the floor. “Valerie Dyer, you are not sleeping on the floor,” Lucille chastised, “There is room enough in my bed that you can rest not encroached upon. I would hope that we’ve shared smaller space many enough times for you not to fear me.”

“Fear you?” Valerie asked, “I don’t—”

“Then what is causing you such discomfort?” Lucille sat on the edge of the bed next to where Valerie still knelt over her pile.

“I told you about my leaving the military. I…” 

Valerie sat back on her heels and forced herself to look up at Lucille who sat so patiently. Valerie got up and sat next to Lucille on the bed. She was an arms’ length away and it took everything in Lucille not to reach across to comfort Valerie. Instead she studied the way her fingers interlaced while she waited for Valerie to say or not say whatever she wanted. “It’s not happened in a long time, but I have occasioned to harbor—”

Lucille felt her chest tighten, she wiped her suddenly sweaty palms over her pajama bottoms. Valerie started when Lucille put her hand over Valerie’s on the bed. She waited until Valerie looked over at her, her blue eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Into the golden vessel of great song, let us pour all our passion; breast to breast, let other lovers lie, in love and rest; not we,—articulate, so, but with the tongue of all the world: the churning blood, the long shuddering quiet, the desperate hot palms pressed sharply together,” Lucille very tentatively shifted Valerie’s hand up between them, “Upon the escaping guest, the common soul, unguarded, and grown strong.”

Valerie felt her breath caught in her chest, wanting to escape but not daring break the spell. Lucille slowly reached up to cradle Valerie’s cheek. Her thumb slid over the skin there to wipe away a tear. Valerie felt the world distill down to that solitary touch. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in many years, Valerie Dyer.”

Lucille leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on the corner of Valerie’s lips. Valerie felt more tears slip down her cheek. She blinked. Lucille was near enough that she could smell her toothpaste. Valerie opened her mouth and closed it quickly, wiping the tears away with her free hand. “Is this a dream?” she finally managed to say into the quiet.

“If it is then I am content to sleep,” Lucille replied.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem is by Edna St. Vincent Millay.


End file.
